Stiv
by B. C. Schiele
Summary: Stiv is a lower class Irken of the mean streets. He's down on his luck. He's out of a job. And things couldn't get worse for him. Or could they? After he meets the girl of his dreams what will become of him? It's so much of a mystery, EVEN I DON'T KNOW!
1. Troubles

I don't own Invader Zim. Please don't sue my bored ass!

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STIV

By

Mr. Pink

Chapter One

TROUBLES

There she stood on the balcony of our small apartment. She looked down at me and our eyes met. She was one of the most beautiful Irkens I had ever seen in my great many years of life. She was four and a half feat of gorgeous curves, long, curled antennae, and sexy blood-red eyes. Now I remembered why I had chosen her. Why Xella was my girl. And as she stood there, a few stray rays of sunlight caught her form in a magnificent silhouette. Her antennae gently waved in the breeze and her green skin glistened in the light; I couldn't help but smile. And just as I was beginning to sink into my tender reverie, she opened her mouth. "You - no - good - dirty - rotten – good - for - nothing - free -loading – slark - eating - cheating - son – of- a - bitch!"

She screamed as she ran back and forth from the balcony to inside carrying armful after armful of my things. She threw a couple of suitcases, my boots, and…

"That's my favorite shirt!" I watched as one of the cases burst open and the yellow and black striped rag floated down on the air. I snatched at it in vain only to have it land in a dingy puddle at my feet. I suitcase, meanwhile, bashed me right across the forehead. As I picked myself up off the ground, I knew it was over between us. How did she find out about me and her sister? It was only once. Who could have told her? OF COURSE, probably her sister's husband. That dirty bastard! I yelled up at her as I rubbed my head, "Xeeeella! Xeeeella! Come on sweat-squeedly spoooch, I'm sorry. I promise you, this is the last time this will ever hap…"

"That's what you said the last time Stiv! I'm not as stupid as I look!" She continued hefting load after load of my belongings over the railing as I scrambled around trying to catch it. "I never want to see you ever again! We're thru! It's over! And Tallests help you if you try to come up here! I'll cut you in ways that'll make useless to a female! You lying sack of slark! I MEAN IT!" She came out brandishing a rather large, intimidating, serrated blade.

Yep, it was definitely over. No use in trying. And so much for a goodbye kiss. The only thing I was really worried about was the fact that I didn't have a transport unit. I had been using her model, but now, I didn't think she'd be so keen in letting me use it, not even for old time's sake.

I could feel a big bastard of a migraine coming on. And with a head as big as the one I have, you don't want a head splitter of a migraine. I reached into my jacket and pulled out the small, medical packet. I quickly placed one of the little red strips on my tongue and counted to five. As it rapidly dissolved I could feel the pressure in my head lessen and then fade away. Another episode avoided. I sighed. The last thing I needed was to forget my medication. I may be borderline psychotic, but I, I didn't need to worry about that right now.

Things were starting looking up now. I didn't have to worry about Xella finding out about her sister. I wasn't tied down to anybody any more. Hell, I was my own Irken now. Free to do as I pleased. I had not a care on Irk. Then I realized, I didn't have no place to stay. So I decide to walk around a little. No need to rush into anything. I'd gather my thoughts a while.

The neighborhood I used to live in with Xella had suddenly become a terrible part of the sector almost over night. Now, for those of you readers who are filthy, stink humans, I'll give you a brief Irken history lesson. About four years ago, a radical faction of rough aggressors and Irken anarchists tried to over through our great Empire, which of course, resulted in a vicious, extremely bloody massacre, know as "The Twelve Minute Rebellion." Believe you me, never before had there been so much blood spilt in a single sector uprising. As you can imagine, there haven't been any rebellions or riots, for that matter, since. Ever since then, the area was a rather devastated sector dominated by burned out hulks of buildings and ruble. Needless to say, the amount of homeless and criminals was astronomical. I need to get somewhere safe, soon.

As I slowly walked down the street with two haphazardly packed up suitcases in my claws and a pillow tucked under my arm, making sure not to step on the many legs of the many homeless Irks on the sidewalk, it began to rain. You humans probably know that rain on Earth will eat the flesh right off of an unsuspecting Irken. Such is not true on Irk. Slight chemical differences and the fact that human pollutants in your atmosphere are different form the many chemicals in the atmosphere of Irk. Thus, all that happened was I got sopping wet.

As I trudged down the street, soaked to the bone, slowly getting colder and colder I thought to myself, could this get any worse? I was answered

"Yes" as a large snack transported wailed by splashing a rather large, rather dirty puddle directly into my face. As I coughed and wiped the sludge from my eyes and blinked a few times my vision slowly began to return, revealing a bright, red neon sign that said. "BAR"!

"Oh, thank you!" I screamed as I ran toward the door. I through my soggy pillow into an alleyway, which was quickly snatched up by a homeless Irken, and I walked thru the door and dropped my bags by the trash.

The fat bartender looked at me and I said, "Whadda' you need?"

I said, "I'll take a triple. Better yet, make it a double triple!" I snapped my fingers and sat down.

During my seventy years in the Irken military, I learned a thing or two: how to kill things, how to kill more things… really, all I learned was how to kill things. Oh, and I learned to fly a Voot Cruiser. But then about forty years ago, the great Irken Invader, Zim, conquered a pathetic planet called Earth. Oh wait, you humans already know this. Sorry. Anyway, while stationed there during the process to make it an official territory of the Empire, I learned of many other things: like rain, and… GERMS, but more importantly, I learned of a fantastic invention you Earth monkeys call, "liquor". What we drink is pretty good stuff, mind you, but what you monkeys consume, OOH MAMA, it gets me crashed faster and harder than anything else I know. And after, twelve hazy years on your filth ball of a planet, I came back pleased to discover that the beverages had caught on at home. I also discovered that because Zim brought the Tallests a strange device from Earth, called a "Twinkey", the Tallests, in their limitless wisdom, appointed him the regal magistrate of your planet. Isn't that a bitch! But I digress…

The rather fat Irken with the nametag that said, "Durel", set the two glasses on the bar top in front of me. I reached out with both hands and hammered the pair back at the same time.

"Another," I coughed.

It has a satisfying burn.

I decided to have a quick glance around the bar. It was a typical

Irken dive: bad lighting, bad smell, bad Irkens, and lots of smoke. The

floor was cracked tile and the walls were rusting metal covered with

posters of local musical groups and of course, naked Irken chicks.

My eyes dwelled on the posters for an unknown amount of time before Durel slammed another two glasses on the counter.

"Hey man, you got troubles?"

I flinched for a second. Was he talking to me? I looked around for another Irken who might have been engaged in this conversation. I saw no one and realized, yes, he was talking to me. "Why?" I asked. Of course I had problems! Lots of problems. But I wanted to put off the inevitable conversation that was about to take place.

"You just seem like the type of guy who's having problems," he said. Damn, he was genuinely interested.

"Yeah. I am."

"Why don't you tell me about it? What's the worst that could happen?"

I thought maybe a passing rouge transporter would soak me with a puddle again. But he was right.

"Pour me another and I'll tell," I said pointing down to the two empty glasses. He complied and I continued.

"My girlfriend kicked me outa' our apartment."

"What'd you do?" This guy was good.

"Why do you suddenly jump to the conclusion that it's MY fault?" I said pointing at myself in disgust.

He just gave me a stern stare. I wasn't a very good liar when I was drunk. Once, Xella asked me if a particular outfit she had picked out for that night made her look fat. My face stung for an hour and a half after that slap.

Fine, I'd relent. "She THINKS I slept with her sister." Okay, did I say relent? I meant, skirt the subject.

Another stare.

"SO what if I did? I still loved HER. It's not my fault her slark head husband decided to be a little tattle tale!" Tattle tale? Did I say tattle tale? The drink was softening my mind.

"I'd say you got what was coming to you man," Durel said as he filled my glasses yet again. "I thought you had a problem I could give you advice about. Neuk! Man. Your up a galaxy without any thrusters."

"Gee. Thanks for being so positu… postati… positive. You're a real help. You know that right? A REAL help."

"Positive? You want positive?" An odd look quickly swept over his face as he crooked his eye ridges.

"Yeah. Why not?" I could use a little positive rienfo... reinfff…

positive stuff."

"Okay. You're doing FINE. You'll get through this. Hell, you'll get out of these slums and make something of yourself. Your life won't end up a complete and total failure, the likes of which never before seen except in Operation Impending Doom Two!" Wow, that WAS positive. I felt better already.

"I'll have you know that I'm a proud surviving veteran from OID2!" I protested angrily.

"Yeah, you're one of the few lucky ones," he said.

A few tense, silent minutes passed. The room had begun to spin, and the bottles on the shelves behind the bar were staring at me menacingly. I finished my fourteenth glass and I said to the bar tender, "Hey,…. what time it is?"

He said, "The clock on the wall says three. Last call, for alcohol. You've had enough," He handed me the rather large tab I had run up. As I looked over it in my haze, I decided he was right; I had had enough to drink. Besides, I could afford another drink. So, I quickly paid him my tab and headed for the door picking up the two cases as I left and the last thing I remembered was hearing a faint voice, like down a tunnel, saying, "He don't look so good."

And then the ground was moving toward my face at an alarmingly fast rate. I felt a slight pain in my head. And then, everything went black….

I remember, there was a dream. It wasn't what you'd call a bad dream, so much as a neuking nightmare! I was on trial. For what I didn't know. I had an idea, but I still wasn't sure.

"Colonel Stiv has been brought up on charges of atrocities committed against the filthy,… I mean, the HUMANS. How do you plead?" Asked the somewhat tall Irken in the green robes.

"Not guilty!" Sure I was guilty. After five years on that slark ball, obviously before I discovered liquor, I would get up on the roof of my base and have a little target practice with the humans. And other than a couple of slaves here or there, I really didn't see the big deal. In fact, no one has ever been tried for atrocities because every Irken soldier is encouraged to do so.

When I tried to tell this to the court, I suddenly heard a voice from behind saying, "Silence the prisoner!" I suddenly felt a searing pain in the back of my head and I was on the floor. I looked up just in time to see where the voice had come from. It had echoed down from the royal viewing box where, at that second, a rather excited Tallest Purple was jumping up and down, his large sodas splashing everywhere. "Enough with this, execute him!"

My Tallests had betrayed me and now I was going to die. I was going to die a terrible, horrific, painful death!

"Throw him out the air lock!" howled Tallest Purple. The green judge smiled and nodded.

"Death! DEATH! DEEEEEATH!"

Then, I was then hefted up by two guards. As I was carried toward the air lock I could here the entire court chanting, "Death! Death! Death! Death! Death! Death!" The sound suddenly faded as I was thrown into the air lock. I could hear the hissing sound and then it was over. I was out in space, spiraling away from the Massive. I couldn't breath. I was dying! Dying! Then, suddenly, I saw a light. And I was awake.

I was awake in a dirty alley a few blocks from the bar. I noticed my monies was gone and so where my suitcases. Those bastards at the bar must have left me for dead and looted my body. Now what was I going to do. My head was throbbing and I could hear a loud rumbling noise coming from my stomachs. I needed to eat something. "That's it!" I exclaimed snapping my fingers, only to grab my head in pain. I knew where I could go. Vova. She'd help me out. I just need to get to the diner.

I stood up and steadied myself against a nearby trash receptacle and took a strip of my head medicine. I counted to five and staggered my way out of the alley.

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I hope you guys enjoyed this first chapter. I've got big plans for our friend Stiv. Please, if you like it, or hate it, leave a review. I love to hear from you and I love to know what you think of my work. Thanks.


	2. Vova

Chapter 2

VOVA

I'm not sure how long I wandered the streets. It was beginning to get cold and I wasn't quite sure where I was. I pulled my jacket tightly around my chest and looked up at the sky. The road lights were starting to blare into life and the already gray sky was beginning to darken. The ever-changing illuminations made the shadows move in a twisted dance on the walls like some vicious, bloodthirsty monsters ready for their next kill. In the state of mind I was in at that time, the images made me jump and I scream inside. I could feel an all to familiar fear creeping into the back of my mind. I could feel the bad vibes running up my spine and holding my Squeedly Spooch in a vice-like death grip. It was another one of my battlefield flashbacks.

I was trapped in a trench. I didn't have a weapon. I was caked in blood. It was Irken blood. I didn't know where I was. I looked up over the muddy trench wall. It was a barren, empty wasteland. Vast and bleak, the land stretched on as far as I could see. I could barely see the soil from all the bodies scattered about the ground. There where fires, everywhere. Thru the smoke I could see them, the rats. I fell face down in a puddle of blood. I was on Blorch! I screamed out loud. This sudden outburst brought me out of my crashing out of my hellish daydream. I was on the sidewalk, in the fetal position; lying in a puddle of rainwater. Not blood. A nearby homeless Irken was watching me wearily.

What had transpired during my short stint on the planet Blorch had scarred me for the rest of my life. I saw terrible things there. Things so unspeakable, I cannot speak of them. I don't want to talk about what happened there, but I will tell you this: since my time on Blorch, I've had my terrible headaches and black outs. If I didn't have my meds, I don't know what might happen.

It was that exact question that got me released from the military. Seventy dedicated years of faithful service and because of one nervous breakdown they throw me away like an empty soda can with nothing to show for it except an army jacket and a body's worth of battle scars and wounds. One hundred and seven battles and I didn't have a single medal. I had killed so many in the name of Irk. I had done so much. And now look at me. A half-crazed ex soldier, living in the slums, scrounging for his next meal. It was a truly pathetic situation.

I picked myself up out of the puddle and stood there, leaning against a wall for a few minutes. I took two strips this time and waited for them to kick in. It was odd. I seemed to be needing them more frequently now. Maybe I need a larger dose? I wasn't sure. I'd worry about it later. I looked around and got my bearings. I turned right on the next corner and headed down the street.

I don't know how long it took me before I was standing outside the cafetorium where Vova worked, but by then, my clothes had mostly dried. I'm not quite sure just how long that is.

The cafetorium was a respectable place; a nice place. At least, it was as respectable as it could get in a sector like ours. I walked around a corner and into the alley behind the place. There, perched on a step and singing an old song to herself, was Vova, my sister.

She didn't notice me at first, so I just stood there, leaning against the wall watching her. She had just emptied the trash for the night and was taking a quick break. She was singing a song I had taught her. I'd picked it up from the Earth creatures and it had stuck with me. Something about a soldier and a whore named Lili.

She was a little shorter than me, probably about four-foot-eight, and she had purple eyes. She sat there for a few moments, singing and looking down at her reflection on the wet pavement of the alley's floor and drying her claws on a grease-stained apron. Her curled antennae perked up slightly and then she looked up and saw me. I just stood there and smiled.

"Stiv!" She cried happily. She jumped up and ran to me; her pointed teeth revealed in a joyous smile. I smiled back and held out my arms. She jumped at me and I caught her as we embraced. It was good to see here. Damn good to see her.

"I missed you," she said. She gave me a tender squeeze and then stood up on the tips of her toes and kissed me on the cheek.

"I missed you to, Vova. You have no idea how good it is to see you. I've had such a bad day," I said as I held her and rubbed the back of her head gently with my free claw. I looked into her eyes and I knew, from her expression, the next question she would ask.

"What did you do this time?" she asked as she pushed me away almost playfully. I must say, it was rather audacious of me to be surprised by such a comment. But, she was, after all, my sister and who would know me better, other than myself.

Now when I say she's my sister, I don't mean literally. Irkens don't have real siblings. I'm sure you're familiar with the birth process. And if you're not, go ask somebody else. After my EXTREMELY premature military release, I spent some time living on the streets. During this time, I found a small little thing of an Irk hiding by a trash receptacle and eating something: something that had once been alive. She couldn't have been more than twenty-five at the time. So, I decided to adopt her. And we've been siblings since. And I've killed many an Irken for here. And I've done many a "questionable" thing to ensure her happiness and safety. But if you tell the law I said that, I'll deny everything you say and then I'll come looking for YOU. I promise.

So we both sat down on the little step and I gave her a compact, mostly truthful, version of the story about how I had gotten from Xella's apartment to the cafetorium. I told her about Xella. I told her about getting drunk. I even told her about me getting robbed. Pretty much, I told her everything. I may have left out my little mental slip, but I didn't want to worry her too much.

And when I was through, she didn't really have much to say. I knew she wasn't happy with what I had done, but I also knew she wasn't mad. We both stat there for a few minutes not speaking. I was just about to say something when she spoke.

"When was the last time you had something to eat?" She asked as she patted me on the shoulder; her tender, loving smile returning to her face. I had been so cold the last few hours, but with her smile alone I could feel a slight pang of warmth deep inside.

"I can't remember," I told her while looking at my reflection in a puddle. I looked a mess.

She reached over rubbing my cheek and said, "You look a mess." Told you. She laughed and hugged me again.

She shivered slightly in the cold and opened the back door. She looked at me and said, "Well, come on inside and I'll fix you something to eat. Okay?"

"Okay." I carefully stood up and followed her in through the door. It was quiet and empty inside the cafetorium. It was a sterile and stark environment. Hard to believe anyone actually worked in there. All of the workers had already left for the night. It was just me and Vova. We had the place to ourselves.

"The manager gave me a key and told me to lock up when I was through. So go on and make yourself at home, Stiv" She said as she opened one of the storage units looking for any leftovers. "Aha," she said in triumph as she reappeared with a plate of, well, I'm not quite sure what it was. It was gray. It was slimy. It was a leftover! We'll leave it at that. "You got a place to stay?"

"Nope," I said. At that moment I was scrounging around in a cabinet looking for a snack. "I'm outdoors at the moment. I don't have any monies, so I can't check in at a motel. I figured I get a bite to eat and find somewhere to sleep."

"No way. You can come stay with me and Ziggy. Our place isn't much, but you're welcome to stay as long as you need."

"Oh, no. I couldn't possibly do tha… Who's Ziggy?" I asked, a quizzical look creeping across my face. In my mind I was trying to think of any Ziggies I'd met. I couldn't really think of any of the top of my head.

"He's my boyfriend," she said cheerfully as she whipped down a counter top.

The thought never registered that she might have a life outside of being my sister. She might have relationships outside of our own. "That's nice."

I heard a quiet beeping sound and looked over at the little machine in the corner. "It's done," Vova said. She opened it up and pulled out the mysterious dish. She carried it over to a table and I followed her; trying to decipher just what it was I was smelling.

We both sat down at the nearest table and I dug in. I cut a chunk of the blob and slapped it into my mouth. I paused for a minute. The flavor of what I had just ingested began to slowly sink into my tongue. I held back the gag reflex for what felt like the longest time before I choked it down and smiled. "It's good."

"Thanks," Vova said as she took her apron off and stuffed it in her Pak. "I'm so glad you like it." Once she had the apron off I noticed something very disconcerting about my sister. She had a few bruises here and there on her arms and back. What worried me though was that these bruises were not the regular ones you get from working in the service industry. These were ones PURPOSEFULLY inflicted; an UNACCEPTABLE concept in my mind.

"Vova, what are those?" I asked her, pointing at the discolored spots on her skin.

"Oh, uh these. It's nothing. Really," she said with hesitation in her voice. I knew something was up. Someone was hurting my sister. Somebody who wasn't going to be hurting my sister for much longer if I could just find out who it was.

"Tell me the truth, damn it." I raised my voice. "Is it Ziggy? Did he do that?"

"No, no. Ziggy's an angel. He'd never hurt me." I could her genuine sincerity in her voice. I knew she was telling the truth. I'd "questioned" enough prisoners to know what the differences between the sounds of truth and lies.

"Then who is it?" My patience was beginning to wear thin now. "I promise I won't try to kill him. I'll just talk to him. I promise."

"He's just a guy I work with. He's named Gorn. He pinches me almost everyday. And he does other things when no one's looking. And nobody'll do a damn thing about it!" She started crying.

I got up from my chair and walk around to her. I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and nuzzled my face against hers. "It's gonna' be fine. Please don't cry. It's alright." Inside my head I was thinking about what those "other things" Gorn does to her might be. I shuddered. I'd have to deal with this.

She stopped crying and looked up at me. Her eye make-up was running down her tear-soaked face. "Promise me you won't do anything to him. The last thing I need is for things to get worse around here."

I looked down at her and said, "I promise." Like I said, I'm a terrible liar when I'm drunk. But I was sober now. In the back of my mind I was already thinking about how to deal with this problem. The little gears in my head began to grind to life. How would I do it? What could I say to get thru to this bastard.

So, the night progressed on. I choked down the rest of my "food" and we talked about this and that, that and this; things that are none of your business. We caught up on what was going on with each other. She told my about her boyfriend. The more she talked about Ziggy, the more familiar he sounded to me. I almost felt like I had met him somewhere before.

It was sometime around ten-thirty when we finally left. I had helped mop the floors and finish up the dishes. I also helped myself to a little treat from the register while Vova was putting something away. But I didn't say that. And YOU didn't hear that. And when we were done, we left.

It had started raining again and it was nighttime. We started the walk to her place.


	3. The Walk Home

A/N: I would like to dedicate this chapter to my only fan who has left me reviews for this story. Thank you, R12! I greatly appreciate your input. To anyone else who has enjoyed this story so far, please leave a review. Apparently something isn't right with my story, so please tell me. – Mr. Pink 

Chapter 3

THE WALK HOME

The walk to Vova's apartment was a long and quiet one. It was beginning to get late and the rain continued to fall. It glistened against the shine of the streetlights. Under every available awning and cover from the storm huddled the usual scum of the streets. Junkies scuttled to and fro in the alleys as they looked for their next fix. The local pimps and their respective girls stood against the buildings waiting for a little business to come their way. Every now and then a single vehicle would come roaring past and kick up a spray onto the sidewalk.

We had been walking for quite some time before I noticed Vova was shivering. Until this moment, I hadn't really noticed just how cold it had become outside. I quickly removed my jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She hugged it tightly around her and smiled up at me. "Thanks."

We continued for a short while longer before she stopped and said, "You're going to put the monies back tomorrow morning, right?" Her face now held an amused look on her face.

I paused for a brief moment. I was shocked and some what dumbfounded. How did she know? She hadn't even been in the room when I lifted the register. I continued proceeding with this train of thought and looking into her tentative eyes. I rubbed the back of my neck nervously and replied, "Yeah."

"Good," she chirped, "I wouldn't want my one–and–only brother, who I love oh so dearly, to wind up spending a few days in a dark, little holding cell just because he can't keep his sticky little fingers to himself." A large, toothy smile rapidly spread across her face as she spoke and patted me roughly on the shoulder.

"Love ya'," she stood up on the tips of her boots and kissed me on the cheek.

"I love you too, Vova," I said and gingerly hugged her.

We were still walking and I was beginning to wonder just how much further was it before we wondered off into another sector of the city.

"How much further is it?"

"Not too much further," she replied tiredly. I sensed something in her voice, like she'd been in deep thought about something right before I spoke. "Besides, quite being such a smeet."

"Hmmm, a smeet?" I began to playfully wine. "My feet hurt! I'm tired! I'm hungry!"

She gave a quiet, little laugh. She looked at me and said, "When you work twelve hours a day bussing tables and washing dishes and eating terrible food and earning a pathetic pay stub, THEN you can complain!" She then looked at me for a few moments and started crying. I knew what this was about. This was about THAT PROBLEM. This was about Gorn. I'd have to take care of this.

I wrapped an arm around her waist and, for the second time that night, comforted her about Gorn. "It'll be fine, sis. Please, don't cry. Please, d d don't…" I had to stop talking. For the first time in a LONG while, I was on the verge of tears. I never cry, but it pained me so to see someone do this to her. I could almost taste the sour, sickly feeling welling up in my Squeedly Spooch. I swallowed hard and said, "Come on, let's get you home." I quickly scooped her up into my arms and continued walking at a slightly brisker pace. I was careful not to jostle her too much and within a few minutes she was sound asleep in my arms. I was glad to see that she had calmed down.

Soon enough, I was standing, with Vova in my arms, in front of the towering apartment complex. Almost the entire building was dark, except for a few lights scattered here and there. It was an extremely tall and almost menacing structure. It was a prime example of typical Irken architecture. Large pipes and tubes jutted out haphazardly from the enormous purple slum. Sparks shot out of the large sign above the front door that said, "Irken Arms Tower Block".

I carefully shook Vova awake and said tenderly, "Wake up, we're home."

"No not the piggies! I didn't do it, I swear! I..." she yelled loudly at my left antenna as she returned to consciousness. It took everything I had not to drop her on the hard stoop at my feet. She had always been like this when I'd wake her up, but damn! I'm already partially deaf in one antenna from that DIB stink-beast and his ultrasonic blaster, I don't need anymore help in that department.

As soon as the ringing subsided, I said to her, Calm down. Everything's fine. You fell asleep on the way home." I sat her down on the ground.

"Oh, okay then." She reached into her PAK and pulled out a small coded key card and swiped it through a green slot by the main doorway.

A few moments later, a large slot hissed open to display a metallic yellow screen. "STEP FORWARD TO COMMENCE RETINAL SCAN!" The security computer ordered.

Vova sighed and stepped forward. "I hate this damn thing."

"SILENCE! COMMENCING RETINAL SCAN!"

Then there was a bright flash of light and Vova yelled, "Ah, IT BURNS!"

She stood there screaming and writhing in agony for a few more moments before the light dimmed and she stumbled back.

It didn't take long for the computer to respond. "RESULTS INCONCLUSIVE! PLEASE TRY AGAIN."

Another scan and more ear piercing screaming later, the door relented and we stepped in. "WELCOME TENANT VOVA, #76291-420 AND GUEST! HAVE A MOST PLEASANT DAY!"

The lobby was not quite as I pictured it to have looked. My imagination isn't that good. Liquids dripped from pipes in the ceiling to form nasty puddles on the chipped and stained tile floors. The room was littered with garbage and old furniture. The walls had multiple rusted holes in them that revealed twisted groups of wire, pipes, and tubes. The entire scene was illuminated by the only two functioning lighting tubes in the lobby. I gazed over at the sign outside the elevator that read, "OUT OF SERVICE". It's twin brother hung on the door outside the public lavatory.

"Nice," I said. Then something else caught my attention. I could now smell an odor wafting around the lobby. This "unique" smell reminded me of my found time stationed on planter Compostia 12. Only this was worse!

"It's the best we can do, Stiv. I'm just a waitress," she said defensively as she stepped over a junkie who was getting his fix in the middle of the hallway.

"Hey, watch it lady!" he hollered at her before he passed out.

"What's Ziggy do for monies?" I asked her while I stooped down and checked the guy for a pulse. If he was dead, I might be able to sell his Squeedly Spooch for a tidy sum. If he wasn't dead, I might be able to anyway.

"Is he dead?" Vova asked concernedly.

"Nope, he'll probably be fine," I said. Too bad I was lying.

"Anyway, Ziggy does what he can; mostly odd jobs. He does whatever he can, you know?" She walked over to a door marked "stairs" and motioned for me to come along.

Once she disappeared through the door I quickly boosted the junkie's wallet. It's not like he was going to need it! Once I tucked it safely in my PAK I yelled, "Coming, sis!"

When I walked into the stairwell, I instantly looked up to see the endlessly rotating coil of steps that went on for so long that they disappeared into the darkness of the shaft. After a few moment of looking at this, my legs started to hurt.

"So, what floor do you guys live on?" I thought about how nice it would be for them to have a place on the fourth floor. That would be so nice.

"Me and Ziggy live on the thirty seventh floor."

So much for so nice.

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this one. It took me a week to write this. How pathetic is that? Please review. PLEASE!


	4. Home

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy this one. I tried to put some more humor in this chapter. Please review. I'll give you candy if you do!

Chapter 4

HOME

It was a considerable amount of time of time before we reached the halfway mark to the thirty seventh floor. It was a long and arduous journey wrought with peril and several breaks for Vova to catch her breath. We'd made pretty good time so far. And then I felt it. Another headache was coming on fast. This was the third one today. I pushed the concern out of my mind and attributed the migraines to the stress and drinking today had held. That's all it was.

Things started to get a little blurry and I was getting light headed. I opened the little packet to get one of my med strips and reached a finger inside only to find it empty. This wouldn't be fun. I'd have to buy some more from my dealer friend in the morning. I thought about the monies I got from the dead junkie in the lobby. I could afford a few extra packets.

Vova placed a claw on my shoulder and said, "You okay? I thought you said you had that under control." Her voice was laced with genuine concern. I looked into her wide, purple eyes and she looked into mine. She was starting to get worried and I knew it.

"I'm fine. You got enough to worry about. It's nothing," I said while rubbing my temples. It took me a few minutes to get it back under control. My head was pounding, but I could make it. I'd just need to ignore the hallucinations; otherwise I'd scare Vova half to death. Just because I kept stepping over invisible corpses and trying not to run up the stairs screaming, didn't mean she should be worried with it. This would pass.

Not to long after that happened, we reached the landing to Vova's floor. We walked down a lengthy hallway. It was in about the same state as the lobby; filthy and run down. We walked for a few minutes before we heard a loud "DING" emanate from behind us. Both of us looked back just in time to see a very short service technician step out of a set of metal double doors and say, "Elevators fixed."

I looked at him with my legs still aching and my head still pounding and said, "Fuck you and the elevator you rode up in!" His greasy little smile quickly evaporated from his face as he stepped back in the elevator.

"Stiv, what's "fuck" mean?" Vova asked me. I almost laughed. She was still so very child-like when it came to some things.

"It's an Earth-stink word. It's the same as "linst". You shouldn't say it."

Her eyes widened, "Oh."

Soon we were standing outside of a large, red metal door with the numbers 37-129 painted over it. "Here it is," she said and opened the door.

Finally! "You keep the door unlocked?"

No, the mechanism's broken. I haven't been able to lock the door in six months," she laughed and led me in. That was very disconcerting. I'll have to fix that.

The inside of the apartment was surprisingly nice. Compared to the hallways and lobby that lay at the bottom of the ENDLESS stairs, this place was like the Tallests' summer palace; which I went to while attending ZIM'S royal appointment as magistrate of Earth.

The living quarters were clean and relatively well decorated. Almost everything was either a shade of purple or red except for the black tubes in the ceiling. This color scheme reminded me, not so fondly, of our beloved leaders. In the middle of the room were a couch and a large entertainment screen. It was pretty large; especially for a salary off waitressing and odd jobs. In fact, the whole place seemed a little too nice, but it was too late at night for that deep of thought. Ziggy probably just did pretty well with his work.

The place was empty except for me and Vova. I half expected to see this mystery Irken lying on the couch watching the screen. "Where's Ziggy?" I asked and sat down on the couch. Damn, it was a comfortable couch! T must be Vortian. "I leaned over and started looking for the remote control for the TV.

"He usually works all night." Vova reached behind my head and then handed me the remote. "Sometime he comes in for a visit and has lunch with me at work." She walked into the kitchenette and poured herself a STRONG drink. "You want one?" She asked.

"Sure." I needed a drink. Maybe it would numb the searing pain in my head. The whole time I was surfing the channels looking for anything good on. Just as luck would have it, one of my favorite movies was on. Since the conquest, Earth cinema had become rather popular on Irk. Now we had entire channels devoted just to their movies.

She handed me the drink and took a sip of hers. I knocked it down in one swallow and lightly coughed. "How do you do that? I can only sip at it a little at a time or I choke," she asked. I decided not to tell her that it came from a living a hard military life and years of heavy drinking. She sat down next to me and asked, "What're you watching?"

"It's called 'John Carpenter's The Thing'. It's pretty good."

We both looked at the hideous creature that lumbered across the screen. Vova looked at it with abject horror and yelled, "Eww! Is that the Thing?"

I laughed. "No, that's a human named Mac Ready. He's the hero of the picture." Suddenly, another human's head exploded and started trying to eat another human. "That's the Thing."

"Oh," she giggled. We sat there for the next hour or so watching the Thing and drinking. When it was over, Vova looked at me and said with a slur in her voice, "Me and Ziggy share a sleep room, so you can stay in the other one because we don't share THAT room. But if we slept in THAT room, then you could sleep in the other one, but we don't. So don't get your hopes up. I think."

"Okaaay," I said, slightly caught off-guard by my sister divulging her personal life to me. Now, I'm not delusional about this type of thing. I know Vova has a personal life and she does certain "things". But I don't want to think about her sleeping with anybody, anywhere, with anyone, at anytime.

But on the bright side, I had a place to stay.

I climbed up off of the couch and followed her down the hall. She pointed to one door and said, "This is the lav," then she pointed to another door, "and this is your room." She kissed me on the cheek and ran off to her room yelling, "G'night!" and then slammed the door behind her.

I walked into my room and had a quick look around. It was very small. There was a closet and a bed. That was it. The bed was pretty small. Actually, I think it was too small. I laid down on it and confirmed my suspicions. Me legs hung uncomfortably over the edge and the odd poster of Tallest Purple that was stuck to the ceiling wouldn't quit staring at me. Also, a large neon sign that said, "ZARDOS SAVES" kept filling the room with an annoying green light. So, I got my pillow and a blanket and set up a make shirt bed on the couch.

I wasn't really that sleepy yet. I was tired, but not sleepy. My head was starting to feel a little better and I felt like doing something constructive. So, I slipped out of the front door and wandered down the hall to where the elevator was. Just as my luck would have it, the stupid technician had left his tools sitting in the hall. I quickly snatched them up and ran back around the corner to the apartment. For the next twenty minutes I tinkered with the front door repairing the lock mechanism. Finally I heard a loud click sound that told me not only had I fixed it, but I had also locked myself outside. I then spent the next fifteen minutes picking the lock I had just fixed.

Finally, got back inside and locked the door. I walked down the hall and used the lav. I flushed the receptacle and turned on the showering tube. I took off my clothes and stepped in. The hot liquid felt so good on my sore body. I really didn't get cleaned up. I didn't feel like it. I just stood there for a while and relaxed before I stepped out and dried off.

I walked into the kitchenette and got a quick snacking burrito and then laid down on the couch. I turned theTV back on and turned down the volume. It didn't take me long to fall asleep. This time, I didn't have any nightmares.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------A/N: Obviously I don't own The Thing. And this is as good a time as any to say I don't own Invader Zim. Anyway, please leave a review. Tell me what you think or something you'd like to see happen. I'm open to ALL suggestions. I'll even take flames! Thanks.


	5. The Next Morning

Chapter 5

THE NEXT MORNING

I was awoken very quickly by the loud sounds of explosions and screaming. What was going on? My eyes shot open very quickly and I was instantly blinded by a bright light. I couldn't see. When my vision returned, I looked around in a frantic panic to see that the blinding light was a lamp next to the couch and the horrible sounds were coming from the T.V. It was a damn war movie. Once I discovered this, I realized where I was and the memories of yesterday and last night came flooding back to me in one large wave. Now my heart was pounding and my head was throbbing. All because of that stupid T.V. and it's stupidness!

"Oh good, you're awake!" There stood Vova groggily smiling as she stared down at me. "I made breakfast," she mumbled and slumped away toward the kitchenette. She was obviously hung over from the night before; poor thing.

I tried to get up off the couch but I was instantly tangled up in the sheets and soon found myself facedown on the floor. This didn't help my headache at all. In fact, I know felt like I was dying.

Carefully, I picked myself up off of the floor and stumbled down the hall to use the lav. Afterward, something caught my attention from the corner of my eye. It was the wall mirror. I looked like a big, steaming pile of slark. I had huge, dark bags under my eyes, dirt was in strategic places on my face, one antenna was bent from sleeping on it wrong, and I had a chipped tooth. How'd I chip my tooth?

I quickly washed my face and walked back into the living quarters. The smell coming from the kitchenette was a very delicious and welcoming aroma. Especially when compared to what I had eaten the day before. The small table was heavily laden with an array of Irken breakfast staples. Multicolored eggs, sausages, bacon, and TOAST covered almost the entire surface. And behind all of this food, Vova sat waiting for me. I would have felt bad about her doing all that work, but I knew the automated kitchenette machines did it for her.

"Hey sleepy-head," she laughed, "You sure slept for a long time. It's almost five thirty!" It's a common misconception that Irkens don't require sleep, but we do. It's just that we only need three hours a night. I must have slept, what, five? Damn, I was tired!

I grabbed a plate off the counter and sat down at the table. "Yeah," I yawned while I loaded up the plate with whatever I could reach.

"So, what are do you think you'll do today?"

"Dunno'," I said through a mouthful of toast while trying to straighten out my poor antenna. I wasn't very talkative in the mornings.

"You're not very talkative in the mornings." See, I told you! Vova poured a glass of water and dropped two tablets into it. They quickly dissolved with a light fizzing and she drank the whole thing down.

We ate the rest of breakfast in complete silence. The only audible sounds came from the T.V. and the sound of chewing.

After, I helped Vova wash the dishes. Okay, I helped her put them in the washing device and turned it on for her. But that counts as helping with the dishes.

Vova washed her face and started putting on her make up and curling her antennae. While she was busied with "putting her face on", I slipped into the shower. I guess if we were really related, her seeing me naked might have been more awkward, but those circumstances didn't apply. And I really needed to bathe. I had a quick shower, but I made sure to get clean. I dried off and borrowed a tube of Ziggy's deodorant and I was good to go. I put my clothes back on and walked out into the living area while contemplating buying some new clothes since my old ones where stolen.

It wasn't long after that, that we left the apartment. I showed Vova the now functional locking mechanism and for the first time in six months, she locked the front door to her home.

"Thank you, Stiv. You didn't have to do that," she told me happily.

"You're welcome, sis."

"Wait, you stole his tools?" she quickly realized. "That was wrong, BUT you fixed my door. Did you return them?" She asked warily.

"Yes," I lied. They were really hidden under the couch for any future maintenance that might present itself.

We got on the elevator and I pushed the button marked "lobby". The elevator roared to life and we rapidly plummeted downward. I am glad to say that the cursed thing only got stuck once, but after a savage kicking of the still exposed electrical box, it continued its way down to the ground floor. When the doors opened, they revealed what was, last night, a filthy lobby. In the light of the dawning suns, I could now really see the lobby in all of its grotesque splendor. The dead junkie was still crumpled in the corner with his claw shoved down the front of his pants, just as I had left him. That's when I noticed what he was wearing. The junkie wore an all too familiar yellow and black rag.

"He's got my favorite shirt!" I said out loud to no one in particular. I quickly walked over to the cold body and, for the second time, looted the corpse. He smelled funny. Now, you may think I'm an Irken with no honor and absolutely no morals, and you'd be right, but regardless, he had MY favorite shirt. It was MINE! Besides, I don't have to defend my self from you anyway. I don't care what you think of me! But I digress.

"Stiv, what are you talking about? Leave the poor guy alone! He must be exhausted if he's been asleep this long," she said as I took back my shirt and stuffed it in my PAK.

"I'm sorry for him, but he shouldn't have stolen from me," I said and looked at him for a second. How could Vova still think he's asleep when his eyes are frozen wide open and staring at me? In fact, it was a little unnerving, so I picked up his sunglasses from off of the floor and put them on his head. "There, much better," I mumbled to myself and stood up, brushing my jacket off.

The walk to the cafetorium didn't seem nearly as long as it had the previous night. The sky was clear and the suns were just beginning to rise into view over the horizon as the streetlights dimmed. Unfortunately, this sight was wasted on us due to Vova being very hung over and I having a terrible headache.

Once we arrived at work, I made sure Vova made it inside all right and told her I'd be back after I ran an errand or two. She seed satisfied by my extremely vague explanation of my planned activities for the morning and decided not to question me any further. I kissed her on the cheek and left.

About ten minutes later, I was standing in a familiar alley with my dealer friend that I mentioned previously. I didn't know his real name, so I simply called him Blix. He was a lanky looking Irken; standing about four foot nine with red, shining eyes and a crooked smile. He had a knife fight scar near his right eye and if it had of been any closer to it, he'd only have one eye. He was an okay type person, but you wouldn't be able to tell that just by looking at him.

"Hey Blix, what's happening with you these days?" I asked him.

"Oh, nothing much Colonel. But I can't complain." He'd called me "Colonel" ever since we got drunk together and I told him about the time I fragged my colonel out in the field because we were stranded and I was hungry. He should have given me that burrito. Ironically, the burrito was stale, but HE tasted pretty good. Anyway… he called me Colonel and I like it. It was nice to hear it come from somebody; even if that somebody was a degenerate drug dealer.

"So, how are you?"

"Not so good, you know," I said. "I'm out of the Vaxor12. Please tell me you got some more in."

"Oh, those little anti-psyche strips? Yeah, as luck would have it, a large shipment came in this week. They fell off the back of a conveyance pod, you know."

"How much you want per pack?" I asked.

"Twenty-five per; it's not reasonable, but it's not bad either. So?" He asked.

I thought of the monies I'd been "given" by the junkie in the quiet, little lobby and decided to get a few extra packs. With what I had planned today, I'd probably need 'em. After the "transaction", I had five packs and enough money for a paper and something to eat.

"I'll see you later Blix. I've got a prior engagement to see to."

He smiled. "Same here. I'm gonna' go have lunch with a good friend after I'm done with my other 'customers'."

So we parted ways. During my walk back, I stopped and bought a paper. I read it on the way back to the cafetorium. The Devastators from sector 40 won the series. There was another attempt on the Tallests, mainly Red, followed by mass executions; pretty typical news week.

When I walked inside, all the conversations stopped and most of the patrons stared at me. I gave them a quick glare and things went back to normal. I sat down in the corner booth with the best view of the kitchen and continued reading my paper. Occasionally, I'd glance up and have a look around. A nice little waitress came over asking for an order. I wasn't really hungry, so I ordered a small cup of coffee.

I continued watching the kitchen for the next few minutes. It wasn't too hard to find him. Gorn was an incredibly short Irken. He couldn't have been over four five. He had that look about him that most perverts have. His shifty little green eyes darted back and forth as he followed Vova. Every know and then, he'd grab her ass or try to look up her skirt and I'd sit there and watch. I'd sit there and plan.

It wasn't long before Vova turned around and told him to leave her alone. That's when it really started. Like a lightning bolt, he jumped up into the air and backhanded Vova across the face. Obviously, I was the only one who noticed because the rest of the place continued with its happy chatter as the kitchen staff busied itself with cooking. That's when Vova walked finally spotted me and walked over trying her damndest not to start sobbing right there. Right behind her was Gorn. He still had that little greasy smile on his face. He wouldn't for much longer.

Vova looked at me, the red handprint already beginning to rise on her face, and said, "Stiv, this is Gorn."

"You mean 'your boyfriend Gorn'! Don't you ya' filthy svelch!" He hissed. I sat there for a moment with my mouth slightly agape.

I cannot begin to tell you how ugly the word "svelch" is in the Irken language. I don't even think there is an equivalent to it in English. So, you can understand my shock. I looked at Vova and said, "Vova, go to the lav and wash your face. It'll talk to your LITTLE 'boyfriend' while you're gone." I emphasized the word 'little' and Gorn cringed when I said it.

"Stiv, please don't hurt him. Please!" She whispered under her shaking voice.

"Hurt me? Ha!" Gorn laughed.

"Just go wash up. Don't worry about him. Everything will be alright in a few minutes."

She hurriedly ran through the little door next to the kitchen. I looked deeply into Gorn's sickly, green eyes and said, "Gorn, I'm going to warn you this time. Don't EVER touch her again. You do not know what I'm capable of and you do not want to find out. Understand?"

"No! Why don't you make me understand!"

I had a feeling he'd try to be a bad ass. If only I hadn't still had that headache. If only I hadn't forgotten to take my meds. If only I had more patience. I never would have done what I did.

My foot shot out from under the table and forcefully collided with the little bastard's crotch. His knees buckled under him and he fell to the floor howling and clutching himself. While he was down, I picked him up by the neck and drug him back to the kitchen area. The whole way there, I rammed his head into any available objects of counter corners. I stood there for a moment, looking down at the now bleeding Gorn, before my gaze fell upon the grilling and frying area of the kitchen. He was almost unconscious by this point and didn't foresee what I was about to do to him. Everyone else just looked at me in panic. I don't thin they believed I'd do it.

I hefted Gorn up and gave him a good hard slapped across his broken jaw. He came screaming back to reality and I looked at him and smiled. "You still want me to MAKE you understand?" He shook his head. "Oh, I think you do! Look what you've made me do!" I quickly dislocated his right arm and stuck it into the deep fryer. He screamed louder this time. The sickly, sweet smell of burning flesh quickly registered in my mind. I had missed it so. I placed a hand over his mouth. "Shh, it's not that bad. You can't even feel it anymore!" I pulled out his withered, crispy arm and let it drop to his side. "Now, don't ever to touch Vova again. Not with that hand," I pointed to the cooked one, "or this one." I dislocated his other arm "Do you understand?"

He nodded. "Good. But just to make sure you do." I rammed his face down on the grilling cook top and held him there for a few moments. There was that smell again. When I pulled him up, most of the skin on his face was blackened and beginning to fall off. His left eye was severely burned.

I figured I'd made my point, and ensured my permanent disbarment from the eating establishment. I picked Gorn up and walked out the back door. Once in the alley, I poked Gorn in his functional eye, for good measure, and then stuffed him in the nearest dumpster and walked back inside. "Sorry, I forgot my paper," I said as I walked over to my table and neatly folded it up. I tucked it under my arm and headed for the door.

Just at that moment, Vova stepped out of the lav. She looked very worried. I smiled at her and said, "Everything's all right. I'll see you later."

"Okay."

Just before I left, I picked up a slice of pie that had been calling my name the entire time I'd been in there. I quietly and calmly walked out the back door with my paper and my pie. I could hear a low set of moans coming from the dumpster and thought I could hear approaching sirens in the distance.


	6. SID

Heres the next chapter. I hope you guys like it. As for it's quallity, I hammered this little bugger out in a hurry; not only to continue the story, but to keep in habit. I will probably come back and spiff it up a bit. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and please review. (I know I don't have to tell you, Ri2!)I can read my stats and I know you people are reading this damn thing. Thank you!

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Chapter 6

SID

I love a good slice of pie. Unfortunately, this was NOT a good slice of pie! As I walked out of the alley, I heard a loud clattering sound behind me. I turned around, half expecting to see Gorn dragging himself out of the dumpster, only to find that the  
morning garbage pick up was emptying the thing into the back of the trash unit. It would no doubtedly be heading straight to planet Compostia 12. Let's see the little slark-for-brains get out of this one. That's when I noticed an odd coloration about the garbage hauler and smiled. Gorn wasn't going off world. He was going to the sector's incinerator.

My heart ached to think that someone as wonderful and good-natured as that would no longer be in existence. It's so sad. And I'm so sarcastic!

Anyway, I threw the nasty pie into the nearby gutter and headed down the street. The sirens were steadily getting louder and I knew I needed to find a place to hide. Then I saw it, the simple thing that would forever alter my miserable, little life as I knew it. There sat an older model transport conveyance. You pig-smellies might call it a "taxi". But regardless of what you call it, I called it an opportunity.

It was an older model. Rust caked the sides and the whole thing looked like it would fall apart at any moment. It could have been a pile of slark for all I cared. It wasn't like I had another choice. I wasn't at the used ship lot. I looked around to see if the owner was in the general area. And when I saw that the coast was clear, I quickly popped the door lock and climbed in. The thing smelled like donuts and oil and the seats were  
worn out and I couldn't see the floor from all the trash on it. I could get used to this. It reminded me of my apartment with Xella. The control console was simple enough. It had a few buttons and switches. Within a few seconds, I hacked into the main computer's hard drive and quickly hot-wired the little beauty. Just then, I hear a shuffling sound coming from the back seat. I turned around just in time to come face to face with a little, orange robot. Make that a very pissed little, orange robot.

He mustn't have been more than two feet tall; which made the enormouse laser cannon that protruded from the top of his head look almost cartoonish in comparison.

The little robot flailed around madly screaming, "HALT INTRUDER! SURRENDER OR FACE VERY PAINFUL PAIN! YOU HAVE MADE AN UNLAWFUL ENTRY INTO MY MASTER'S VEHICLE AND I MUST …"

"Hey, what's that behind you?" I said and pointed eyes wide with my best surprised expression.

He turned around to look. "Huh?"

Quickly, I ripped open the little access panel in his back and turned the little nuisance off.

"Hey, ThaT's no-No-OT V-V-VERY NicE …" it sputtered and stuttered before falling limp in the back seat. I'm sure the little conversation we were about to have entered would have been absolutely fascinating, I'm sure, but I need to find a place to stash my newly acquired vehicle and make the proper "alterations" to it.

I sat him down in the seat next to me and gunned the engine of the cab. I quickly found the box of monies the driver kept his fares in and reloaded my wallet. Now that I had transport and monies, I needed to find a safe place for a while. I pulled out onto the street and headed toward the older district. Every now and then a wave of paranoia would wash over me and my eyes would dart back and forth searching for the law that was waiting around every corner. But fortunately, there were none to be seen. I knew they were looking for me, but I guess they were looking elsewhere.

I drove around for a few hours before I finally came to a rather  
derelict area of the sector. I drove for a few blocks before I found a suitable place to hide out. As far as I knew, no one lived in the old plasma-armed battle tank factory, so I found the main entrance and drove the cab inside. I must have been my lucky day, or my AMAZING piloting skills, but at that exact moment, right when I was out of danger, the engine died. It was almost like the cab new when the best time to die was.

Now that I had some privacy, I could get started on the idea that had been  
formulating in my amazing brains. I got out of the cab and had a quick look around to scrounge for the appropriate instruments. Seeing how this was a factory, I figured there might be a few tools about.

The place was in shambles. It was a caddy-cornered maze of rusted railings and pipes. Old machinery and even half-finished tanks lay collecting dust where they had been left. Parts of the roof had caved in. The floors were covered in puddles of water and oil and masses of debris and broken bits of tables and chairs. It reminded me of a freshly bombed enemy hospital. Trust me, I've seen one. All it missed was fire and dead bodies.

Then, I came across a door marked 'equipment' and walked inside. It was a small room. The walls were caked with years of filth. The shelves were almost bare. There wasn't much of anything, but there was enough to do what I needed to do. I gather up the few tools I found and loaded them into a toolbox that was on the floor.

I walked back toward the cab but failed to notice the exposed pipe on the floor and tripped. Suddenly, I came crashing down on the box of tools and, more importantly, my face. For the second time in two days, I had somehow fallen and busted my face on a floor. I laid there for a few minutes in a hazeful daze. Then I noticed a funny taste in my mouth. I had cut my bottom lip and it was bleeding rather profusely. When I opened my eyes, I thought I had cracked my head open because of the large puddle of green in front of me. Then I realized, it was a puddle of water mixing with the small amounts of blood that had lost.

I got up and gathered my scattered tools and carefully walked back to the cab. The little robot still lay motionless in the passenger seat. I reached inside and picked him up by his large head.

While in the military, I learned about SIR unit repair and maintenance and how to rig an enemy robot to obey me, so this was a snap. I quickly opened the top of his head and found his main servitude drive. Tweaked the aeon flag disruptors and cross- wired his main telveg processor. Confused yet? I closed the top and reactivated him.

"Wha' happened? He looked around in an extremely confused manner.

"I erased your memor… erm, never mind! I, Stiv, am your master now, understand?" I said in a strong, commanding tone of voice. "Your name is SID and you will serve me to the utmost of your abilities. Okay?"

" 'S.I.D.'? What does that stand for?" He asked.

"It doesn't matter," I told him. The truth be told, I couldn't think of anything to say. I had always like the name Sid. It had a good sound to it. Don't you think? Oh well, it didn't matter. "Now, SID, I just got a new vehicle and  
I need you to help me fix the engine. Okay?"

We spent the next half an hour doing repairs and what-not. As it turned out, the main centro fluxor had a crack in it. I plugged it with a rag I found and it was as good as new; for now.

"Okay SID, I'm gonna' need you to patch into the cab's computer and find everything I need to drive this cab without the law hopping on my back. I'll need a license, some papers, and, um, whatever else I need. Okay?"

He stared up at me with his little orange eyes. "Isn't that illegal?" Great,  
he's a goody-two-shoes!

"No SID, it's only illegal if you get caught! It'll be fine!" I looked at the back bumper and cave it a slight kick. It made a loud clatter when it fell off.

"Okay then!" He said with a smile and began working. He patched into the computer database and began his task.

"Sid, I'll be back soon. I need to go make a call." I said walking toward the door.

"Whatever." He said in a bored tone. I may have to fix his personality later.

I walked down the street a few blocks to a pay phone, as you'd call it. I could manage a few of the "necessities" it would take to run the cab, but for the license and the I.D. plate, I needed a professional. Fortunately, I knew of just such an Irken. Yes, I know drug dealer, master forgers; I'm very well connected. Praise me later!

I waited a few minutes for Edzel to pick up. "What do you want?"

"Is this the vist?" I asked. It had been so long since I'd talked to him over the phone. It didn't take me long to remember the code speak. We used it just in case the line was bugged.

"Ah, Mr. Nieghsayer, it's so good to hear from you. What can I bee doing for you?"

We talked for about twenty minutes in a language that would be a waist of time to, first, tell you about and then explain. The short version of what we discussed: I got a hot cab, I need papers, and a plate.

"I think I can provide these little finer things in life, eh? How much are you willing to give to your local cherity?" He said.

"At least a stoned bird and five Blorch Rats. At least." In other words, I'd at least pay one thousand-five hundred monies.

"Pleasure, see you soon." He then hung up and left me standing in the street with an empty line.

I walked back to the factory to find Sid dancing on the hood while listening to a horrendously bad song from the dashboard radio. This was not what surprised me, though. It was the fact that the cab he was dancing on was shining like new and had not a single speck of grime or rust on it.

"Sid, how'd you do this?"

"Does it really mater, Stiv?" He asked with a quirked eye.

"No, I guess not. Well, come one. We have to go."

"Where?"

"A friend; and further more, a matter that doesn't concern you. Now come on and get your ass in the cab!" I yelled and pointed at the vehicle. "And turn that slark off!"

"Fine!" He yelled with a huff and jumped off the hood, causing it to bounce, and climbed through the passenger-side window.

I sighed a large, annoyed sigh and opened my door. The cab started flawlessly and I pulled out of the factory. It had been ages since I had last driven and, to no surprise toward myself, dinged the front bumper on a rusting tank. "Son of a bitch!"

Sid looked up over the dash, "Where?"

I was definitely going to have to alter his personality or I was going to kill him; AGAIN!


	7. Visit With Edzel and Some Quick Shopping

A/N: Hey again everybody. Next chapter's obviously up. I'm thinking about starting another Invader Zim fan fic that is completely unrelated to this one. If anybody has any ideas, please, I'd love your input, especially yours Ri2. Also, please leave a review if you already haven't. I so love to hear from people who actually appreciate my work.

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Chapter 7

A VISIT WITH EDZEL AND SOME QUICK SHOPPING

We were waiting outside of Edzel's place. He lived in an old tower block much like Vova's. The only difference being that this one was abandoned and Edzel was illegally leaching power from the surrounding areas. The other difference was the fact that this particular tower block resided directly next-door to an open-air sewage treatment facility. As you can imagine, if you have the apt brain meats, the smell was utterly horrific. If I lingered about too long, I might develop some kind of a terminal cancer in my squeedly spooch or something equally as painful and messy.

We had arrived a little earlier than planned so I wasn't quite ready to go inside yet. The suns were beginning to set and the red-skied night was falling over the tired little area of the city. I sat there for a few moments in the quiet and thought about what had happened. It wasn't until this that I had the clear realization.

"I killed him," I mumbled to myself. It had been so long since I had killed another Irken and it not be in the name of military service. It always left me with a light-headed numb feeling; like I was floating in space. I looked down at my left claw. The black-gloved appendage was ever so slightly trembling, as was it's twin. I gave it a slight wiggle and smiled when I couldn't feel it move. My foot was tapping up and down on the cab's floor making my knee bounce up. Yep, I'd killed somebody. I could still smell the burning flesh. Had I really stuck him in the deep fryer? Best to think about it later. I got out of the cab and walked over to an available pay phone.

I popped in a few coins and dialed the number. The street light overhead sparked alive. It ringed a couple of times before Vova picked up. "Hello?"

"What are you doing home so early?"

"I got fired because of what you did to Gorn."

"I'm sorry," I said. I never intended for it to escalate to what it had. And I never intended to get Vova fired. What would she in Ziggy do now? They were already short on monies and Ziggy was just able to perform odd jobs.

"I'm not worried with that right now. Listen to me carefully. This place is crawling with law enforcers. Don't go to the cafetorium. And don't come back to our place. They're looking for you. You could get the air lock for this, or worse!" She started  
crying.

What could be worse than the air lock? Oh yeah, the moose wormhole. Eh!

"I'm sorry I killed him Vova. I barely remember what I did," I said. I was kinda' sorry, for Vova, not for Gorn. I'd kill him again in a heart beat! Nobody treats my Vova that way. Just thinking about him made me tense up. Then I noticed was crushing the handle of the phone.

"Don't be. I just can't believe you killed him," she laughed. "That's the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me. You're- so- sweet- I- love- you- good- bye." Before I could answer, she hung up.

It had started to get cold outside so I put my jacket back on before I got back in the cab. I thumbed through a couple of switches on the dashboard until the pathetic little heater coughed to life. I looked over at my little, stolen metal companion, slash, slave who was faithfully doing. . . He was asleep.

"Wake up Sid!" I yelled and leaned over trying to kick him in the head. My foot connected with a loud hollow clang and I grabbed my foot in pain. "Ooow! You little bastard!" This woke him up.

"Huh? What? Are we crashing? We're crashing! I'm on fire!" He  
screamed and flailed his arms about the cab.

"We're waiting on someone. Now be quiet!" I said, still rubbing my throbbing foot. "Are you still monitoring the law enforcement's radio communications?"

"Yeah," He said and slumped back in his seat. He let his legs dangle over the edge of the seat and kick them back and forth.

"Well?" My foot had finally calmed down. I'd have to make a note that the next time I hit him, I'd use something like a club or a brick.

"Oh, you wanted to know what they're saying," he said with a large grin, his tongue poking out the side. "But all you asked was if I was monitoring the radios. I said 'Yes'! You didn't ask what they're talking about."

I gave him an angry glare. "Quit screwing around and tell me what they're saying you little metal pain in my ass!"

He paused for a moment to listen to the transmissions. "They're pissed," he laughed. "Oh man, are they pissed!" How very reassuring.

"I'll be right back!" Sid yelled and then disappeared under one of the seats into the ocean of trash and left-over food that covered the floor. I could hear a loud commotion coming from down below; rustlings of paper and what-not, quiet crunching sounds, and then a loud laugh. He soon emerged with a large, green ring of something. "I found a donut!"

I looked at the molding donut. "You're not going to eat that, are you?"

"I guess not. I don't have a stomach, or taste sensors, or a digestive track, or a..."

"That's what I thought," I said and snatched the donut from his hand and shoved it in my mouth. It was WAY better than that slice of pie I had earlier.

"I was saving that!" Sid cried in protest.

"I don't care. From now on, if you find any food, or liquor for that matter, you give it to me. We're homeless and, unlike you, I HAVE to eat to continue successfully functioning."

Sid looked at me angrily. " Fine, you can have all the food! See if I care!" he screamed at the top of his voice.

"Do we have to have another discussion about our 'inside voices' again, Sid?"

"No!" he hissed. He's as good of a liar as I am!

"Goooood." I patted him on the head.

"Quick talking to me like I'm a fucking 'tard!" He yelled. "I may be a robot, but I'm capable of getting pissed!" Great, he has an attitude problem. "So, what do we do now?"

"We hide out for about five days."

"Why?"

"Because, I killed somebody," I said. "Anyway, five days is the maximum amount of time the law is allowed to waste for an investigation into any crime. And that's only for the most sinister crimes. That's because the Irken law makers realized that there aren't enough law enforcers to fight the abundance of crimes," I told him, every-now-and-then using hand signals for emphasis hoping he would understand. With my luck he probably is stupid.

"So, that's all the time?"

"Unless, of course, if it's a crime involving that tallest, like an assassination attempt or royal snack larceny, then the time limit is absolved. But I'm sure you already knew that."

"Huh?" He looked at me confusedly, his little antenna drooping to one side.

Great, he was stupid. "Hey, if you're going to break the law, at least familiarize yourself with it first!" I yelled at him. I'd have to download some intelligence from my Pak into the little bastard or I'd probably rip him to pieces for being so stupid. The last thing I needed was a loud-mouthed slave with an attitude problem and absolutely no brains.

So, in what I guessed to be a three-day period of time, I would be a free Irken. We could do it. I'd have Sid boost some supplies from a convenient depot and we'd live in the cab. I'd slept in worse conditions. Compared to a dumpster, this was a fantastic place to live. But food might be a little more scarce than in a dumpster.

Just then a shadowy figure emerged from the front of the tower block. He was really tall. It was Edzel. He gave me a wave and I got out of the cab. Right before I left, I stuck my head in the window and told Sid, "Just wait here. I'll be back soon. And DON'T TOUCH ANYTHING!"

"Fine!" he huffed at me spitefully and then switched on the radio.

I knew I couldn't trust him to wait in the cab alone. So, I got an idea.

"Sid, I need you to go on a special mission, alright?"

"Yeah." He said. "There's nothing good on the radio anyway."

"I need you to go to the nearest convenient depot and stock us up on as much food and drink as possible. DO NOT GET CAUGHT! Oh, and get some alcohol and a couple of 'special' magazines. Here, I'll right it down," I said as I pulled out a pad and pencil.

I sent Sid on his run and walked toward the building. Edzel was still standing there very patiently. "What took you?"

"Having problems with my Sir Unit."

"When did you get one of those?" he asked as we walked inside.

"Today. It came free with the cab."

"Oh, yeah, the cab you've told me so much about. He coughed and then smiled back at me.

Real quick, let me fill you in on my friend Edzel. Edzel was an alien species that many call "Abductors". I'm sure you're familiar with them by now. He was about a foot taller than me. He had deep blue eyes and bony, almost insect-like features, and he shuffled around with a slight limp. Anyway, ever since his home planet, Quito, which orbits Betelgeuse, was converted into a manufacturing planet for burritos and Twinkies, he has lived on Irk, illegally of course. Since, Quitoans are not the most adapted beings for living in foreign atmospheres, he had a constant wheeze and hacking cough. But, being the species that he was, he was very good with his hands and, therefore, was very apt in the finer arts of forgery.

The inside of the building was a complete shambles. It was much in the same state as the tank factory I had visited earlier that day. Most of it was a collapsed and rusting pile of twisted metal and ruble except for a small area near the center. It was in this area, that Edzel had fashioned his living quarters. There was a bed, a TV, and a wall of computers and other equipment. On the other side of a makeshift partition was the galley and eating chamber and, of course, a lav. The place reeked of the nearby sewage plant and the entire room was filled with a thin haze of industrial vapors.

We skipped the pleasantries of this visit and got right down to business. "So, you got everything done?"

"Yep," he said. "I got your vehicular operator's license, chauffeur's license, proper papers, and you're ID plate for the cab. It's all watertight, they'll never know they're phonies."

"Thanks Ed. How much is this going to run me?" I asked. I knew I didn't have enough for something this nice.

"For you, it's free. After that favor you did for me, I could never bring myself to charge you. Besides, this only took me an hour or so." Told you he was good with his hands! And as for the 'favor', it's a LONG story.

"I can't do that," I said and pulled out my wallet. "This is all I got, but I'm gonna' pay you something, at least." He didn't object.

"Fine." He said and took the monies. "Good luck to you on your new business venture my friend." Suddenly a thin waft of black smoke drifted around the partition. "Ooh, supper's done. You hungry?"

"Nah, I just ate," I lied. If it's ever offered, never, never ever ever, eat Quitoan cooking. I tried it once, ONCE. "Maybe next time, I need to get moving anyway."

"Oh yeah. I've been listening in on the radios. So, you killed a guy?" He grinned.

"Yeah. It's no big deal."

"Is it ever?" He laughed. "I'll see ya'," he said.

When I walked back outside, I could hear sirens, yet again, in the distance. In the cab, sat Sid. In the back of the cab, sat a humongous pile of instant burritos, taquitos, bags of nutrient pellets, snacks of all types, sodas, bottles of varying liquors, and a stack of those 'special' magazines I mentioned. Judging by the sirens, I knew something went wrong.

"Sid, what happened?" I yelled as I popped open the cab's trunk and opened the back seat door.

"Nothing, I did exactly what you said. It's not my fault if the clerk got all trigger happy and accidentally shot one of the customers, damn it!" He yelled and hopped out of the car.

"I don't want to hear anymore of this. It didn't happened! Now help my get this slark in the trunk!" I yelled with an armful of food. "And mind the bottles. I don't want any liquor wasted. We're REALLY going to need everything hear!" Sid was steadily stuffing food in the trunk. Finally we finished. I looked down at Sid.

"Now what?" He asked.

Without a word, I reached down and turned him off and tossed him in the trunk. I slammed the top down. Quickly I swapped out the ID plates on the cab and got back inside. I gunned the bastard and pulled off in the opposite direction. If things went well, I wouldn't get caught. And if things didn't… That wasn't an option!


	8. Alex

A/N: I hope you guys really like this one. I put a lot of heart into this chapter. Also, I'm sorry this one isn't as long as my other chapters. I didn't really see it necessary to drag this out just so I can meet my two thousand word quota.

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Chapter 8

ALEX

"Damn, this is uncomfortable." I was stretched out on the lumpy back seat trying to get some sleep. It was one of my frequent nights when insomnia wouldn't relinquish my mind. I lay there scooping my finger into a can of Irken potted meats and nursing a large bottle of vodka. Sid was wrapped in my jacket, asleep, next to me. I had programmed him to snore quietly because I can't stand silence. For the most part, the sector was asleep. The sirens had died out a few hours ago.

I pulled off my boots in an attempt to make myself more comfortable. I stared down at my bear feet and, for the billionth time, counted my toes. One, two, three, four. All I had left of the original three. The other two had been blown off in an accident. Well, as much an accident as an enemy grenade can be.

On many a dark and silent night when sleep would not take me, my mind would become a wash of the great volumes of abhorrent and monstrous events I had both committed toward and witnessed in my life. When these moods would settle over me, there was no way to escape. No matter how drunk, or stoned, or roasted I got, it was inevitable. This night was particularly bad. Some nights it would be Blorch. Others, it was Earth. But tonight, it was planet Vex and Corporal Alex.

I'd been with the fifty-seventh reg for a few years and during this time; I befriended one of my underlings. Alex was only one rank below me, so I didn't worry with it much, but as far as my service records say, he was an underling. We'd taken to each other almost immediately. We were great friends and comrades. At nights, when we weren't fighting in the slark, we'd lie outside our tents and watch the flares and mortars tear the sky a new one. It was beautiful to watch the way the light would play on the ground and surroundings. During the day, I always made sure he was with my command. We'd watch each other's back and we'd always come back in one piece.

We never made any plans about what we'd do after service. Statistics said neither one of us would make it out alive. We weren't delusional, but in the back of my mind, I hoped we'd be able to have lives and families. It'd be nice to live the Irken Dream, but it wasn't meant to be.

We were on the planet Vex. It was to be cleared for a vacation resort and gambling planet. Vex was home to those big-eyed, gray fuckers who scour the galaxy looking for new and exciting new species with anuses that have yet to be probed. Surprisingly, they put up some of the best fighting I'd ever seen. What we didn't know, was that, along with the grays, a staggering force of Resisty-paid mercs were there to help thwart our attempts.

I had been in control of that small unit of thirty for the past week. Our CO had been vaporized in a backfire accident during a firefight with the enemy and since I was Sergeant, the command had been handed to me. I protested this. I knew I was inexperienced and I didn't want to be responsible for my squad being blown to tiny, doomed pieces of meats. Of course, the higher ups had denied my request for relief of command. If they'd just listened, maybe things wouldn't have turned out the way they did.

As usual, Alex was under my command. We'd been patrolling a valley on the outskirts of the large city-state, Abolterrad. Ahead of us was a high, steep ridge and to our backs was a large outcropping of rocks. We never saw it coming. They cried havoc and came tear-assing out of the rocks with everything they had. In the blinding flash of a few seconds, half of us had been cut down on the battlefield. I gave the order to retreat and we returned fire and attempted to fall back over the ridge.

Alex was at my side and together we charged forward. On either side of us, the ground rose up in fiery mortar explosions. We ran as hard and as fast as we could. Laser shots sailed past our heads. Alex stumbled and fell to the soil. I turned and picked him up and tossed him over my shoulder. We were almost to the top of the ridge when I saw what lay before us. Across the way a few hundred yards was a hill that was webbed with encampments, bunkers, and trenches. So many weapons discharged upon us at once that the entire hill looked like it was ablaze.

Suddenly, there was a burning sensation in my shoulder and I fell. Alex was sprawled in front of me. Suddenly, there was a thunderous roar and the top of the hill exploded. What I had hoped was a successful bomb run turned into a large cannon. Then I saw it. Several large, canister-like objects were falling toward the sky. Without thinking, I grabbed Alex and pulled my gas mask out of my Pak. I held it on his face and dragged him into a trench. We were bothed covered in blood and mud. I could barely see. And I knew, if I didn't hurry, we'd both be shot down. I frantically stumbled down the path until I found a small hole. It was almost like a cave. There was barely room for one, but, somehow, I managed to get myself and Alex inside. And then there was a terrible quake in the ground and the air grew hazy. I knew the canisters had found their marks and it was just a matter of time before the nerve gas poured into our cave. I held my breath and crawled out and back into the trench. I grabbed a pair of bodies and tried my best to hide the entrance to the cave.

There was a strange taste in my mouth. It was like a cold, bitter flavor. It was the gas. The Resisty had engineered a new kind of nerve gas that was designed to only kill Irkens. I tried to ignore it. Other then the taste in my mouth, and the numb feeling, I wasn't fazed. It would be a few months before the long-term effects would set in. For now I was fine. I looked down at Alex. He was just beginning to come to. I held the mask to his face. "Don't," I said. "It's the gas."

He looked up at me sadly and pointed to his stomach. It wasn't until this that I noticed the bloody, gaping hole and his squeedly spooch protruding through it. He said, "Sarge, I'm gonna' die no matta' what you do. I aint gonna' fucking take you with me. There aint no sense in it, Sarge." He removed the mask and held it up to my face with his quivering hand. "I want you to live. And-and G-get a family. P-please." He was shaking. I strapped the mask to my face and reached my arms around him. I propped him up against me and held onto him. His color was fading rapidly and I new the end was near. I was thankful that the bodies seemed to be keeping the gas out. He didn't seem to be in much pain. The gas would have turned this into agony. "I'm g-gonna' miss you Sarge." He said. "I loved you. I loved you like a brother." I told him there wasn't going to be any talk of dying. He'd be fine. This was a scratch. He smiled and looked up at me like he was going to speak. Instead, he arched into a violent coughing fit and blood quickly began to drip out of his mouth. The green was staining the chest of his uniform. He held a hand up to me and I grabbed hold of it. He gave mine a squeeze and then suddenly let go. His body went limp and knew he was gone. His head tilted to the side and the light in his eyes finally faded, never to look upon our great empire again. And I held onto him so tightly and rocked him like a newborn smeet. Hell, he might as well have been. He was half my age, he was just youngling. And now he was dead. And for the first time in my life, I felt an overwhelming feeling deep inside of me and I cried. Oh Irk, how I cried. And I knew, somehow, that all of this was my fault. His blood was literally on my hands and he'd never go home.

I laid there for a day and a half hugging Alex's body against mine. And that's how the burial crew found us. After the battle was done, the victorious Irkens sent in a clean up crew to dispose of the enemy bodies and retrieve their own dead. I remember, they had to wrestle him away from me. I couldn't let him go.

And to this day, I really, inside, couldn't let him go. As I had done many nights since, I sat there and wept into the sleeves of my shirt. I cried for some great deal of time. I cried so long, I cried myself to sleep.

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A/N: I hoped you like this. Thought I'd put in some filler and try my hand at some drama. Just so you know, (since I couldn't seem to make it fit in the text) the "long term effects" of the gas is a mutation in his brain that causes his headaches and psychotic lapses. Just so you know. Please leave a review.


	9. Hiatus

A/N: Since there has been such a poor reaction to my story, once again, I thank you Ri2 for your faithful reviewing, I am putting this story on a brief hiatus. I will return to it within the next month, but I'm going to try writing a more light-hearted third-person story. Maybe people will take to it better. I'm sorry it's come to this, but as I said, I WILL return to this story. Also, if you're interested, Ri2, I'd love your imput on my new story. It would be cool to have you as a co-author.


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